


Cookies

by FidotheFinch



Series: Comfort Food [3]
Category: Maximum Ride - James Patterson
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8328367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FidotheFinch/pseuds/FidotheFinch
Summary: A few weeks after the Flock realizes Jeb won't be returning to the E-shaped house, Max finds out Gazzy's been hoarding cookies. Again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was supposed to be part of the next chapter for a different story. Then it just kind of started going in its own direction, and I went with it. Maybe not my best work, but I had emotions to purge.
> 
> This takes place in the E-shaped house, a few weeks after the Flock realizes Jeb isn't coming back.

"Gazzy, I swear, this had better be the last one."

"Promise, Max." The boy nods solemnly, managing to look at least a little guilty as I pull the small baggie from under his pillow.

Then, a small voice peeps up from the doorway. "Look under the windowsill."

"Angel!" Gazzy sounds betrayed.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. She and I need to have a talk about brain-privacy. "Angel, sweetie, why don't you and Nudge go outside—"

Gazzy crosses his arms and huffs. "But that's not fair!" He emphasizes that last word with a stomp. "It was her idea in the first place!"

"Was not!"

"Was to!"

"Nu-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"No way, you liar!"

"I'm not a liar! It was you and Nudge—"

A threatening poof of dark hair creeps around the edge of the doorway. Nudge, eyes narrowed, whispers, "Snitches get stiches."

I step between Gazzy and the girls before either party is able to pounce on one another. "Woah-kay. Nudge, Angel, I want you to go sit in your room and wait until I come to talk to you." They both glare at their brother before stomping down the hallway and slamming the door behind them. When they're gone, I turn back to Gazzy, only to find him halfway out his window. "Na-ah-ah," I tut, pulling him back inside. He climbs out of my arms, but knows better than to try and run again. I take a deep breath as I slide the window shut, careful to make sure the lock latches before turning back to him.

He has crawled to the far corner of his bed and sits with his arms and legs crossed in an angry pout. "Gazzy," I start.

"It's just not fair! Nudge and Angel are. . . they're the ones who started it! It was their idea! I didn't even want to at first. They forced me to!" He gulps. "I. . . I just—" His voice catches, and he raises his knees so he can bury his face in them.

I only hesitate a second before climbing onto his dinosaur-print bed and scooting in next to him. "Gaz?" When I don't get a response past a shuddering breath, I begin to gently rub his back between his wings in what I hope is a soothing gesture. "Hey, you okay?"

He shrugs. I sigh, stretching my legs out and leaning against the wall so I can pull him up into my lap. Any other time, I'm sure he would protest, saying he was too old. But lately. . . lately, everything's changed. I rock back and forth a few times. "You know I'm not mad at you, right?"

Gazzy tenses his shoulders up to his ears, and then slowly raises his head to look at me. His eyes are shiny with unshed tears. "You. . . You're not?"

I scoff. "I mean, sure I like having my fair share of cookies, but it's not like I'm going to bite your head off for hoarding them. Besides, I could always just ask Iggy to make more." Gazzy's blue eyes widen a fraction. "I mean, I'm mostly just jealous I didn't think of it first." A watery smile from the kid, but I can see there's still something bothering him. I tighten my grip around him for a brief hug before starting to rock again. Gazzy rests his head on my shoulder. I haven't held him like this since he was little. Er, littler.

After another minute of rocking, he pipes up. "Max?" His voice sounds so small.

"Hm?"

"I. . ." A gasp. "I miss. . . " He accidentally releases a sob.

My rocking stops at the clench deep in my stomach. I close my eyes, fighting the lump forming in my own throat. "Yeah. . . Yeah, me, too."

After that, it's like whatever dam he had built up crumbles, and tears start to leak down his face. I pause in my rocking to rest my cheek on his head and rub his arm. Poor kid. He's always trying to act so much older than he is, a little trooper; we all are. But sometimes it's too much.

Losing Jeb was—is—too much. Way too much. This time, it's an ugly cry; he's sobbing uncontrollably, fingers clutching my shirt, barely keeping snot from joining the tears dribbling off his chin.

I don't know what to do. Until recently, this was Jeb's job. So I settle for what feels right in my gut. "Shh, shh. It's going to be alright." I rub Gazzy's back again. "We're going to be okay. I'll take care of you."

"B-but. What if. . . "A sob. "What if you—"

I pull away from him so I can wipe the tears off of his face. "I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise."

A sniffle and gulp. "But, Jeb—"

"I am Maximum freaking Ride. When I make a promise, I keep it." My pseudo-curse seems to convey how serious I am, because Gazzy's shoulders relax and his fingers release their death-grip on my shirt. I continue to rock and brush his hair back as his breathing evens out. "There's my little trooper." It's not long before I recognize the deep sigh that means he's asleep.

Then it's my turn to fight back tears.

I can't keep my promise. I can't guarantee I'll be around long enough, even with my absolute best efforts, to secure my family's safety or happiness. I can't even get close. The only one who could do that was Jeb.

I need Jeb. There's no way I can do this alone. There's no way—

The door silently swings open. I catch the movement and look up. My red, irritated eyes meet calm, nearly black ones. He just looks at me for another minute before nodding and closing the door again. I know I'll find him in my room later. He'll wait until everyone's asleep to sneak in and let me vent. I'll take care of them; he'll take care of me.

Despite my near-heaving a moment before, not a single tear slips. I am not alone in this. I've got Fang.


End file.
